Berserk: Mirror of the Past
by blade3000xl
Summary: Daimon Kimimoto once worked for the Yakuza as a hired hit man. Now Daimon lives in America where he is a bartender in New York City. His life is boring, and his life is dull, but what happens when he starts to have visions of the past?
1. Default Chapter

Notice: I do not own any characters from Berserk, or anything that retains to the basic storyline of Berserk, that's Kentarou Miura's stuff, not mine. So yea, no one better sue me...or something like that...ahem....:)  
  
Summary: Daimon Kimimoto once worked for the Yakuza as a hired hit man. Now Daimon lives in America where he operates a small firearms shop in New York City. His life is boring, and his life is dull, but what happens when he starts to have visions of the past? Especially if his visions are really memories that are not his own?  
  
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Berserk: Mirror of the Past ............................................................................  
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The sun was high in the sky that steamy summer afternoon in Texas. As the dust from the nearby cattle ranches blew across the newly paved road, a small field mouse was trying to desperately gather small morsels dropped from a farm truck that had passed by several hours ago. The mouse twitched its nose in happiness as it slowly hoisted a small kernel of corn up and placed it into the back of its mouth. Just as the mouse was about to leave the black heated roadway, its ears perked up and it looked from side to side. There was a slight humming sound that changed the quiet atmosphere. The humming grew louder and louder, and the mouse did the only thing that its instincts allowed it too. In response to this noise, the mouse refrained from moving a single muscle. It breathed quickly and frequently, trying not to move at all in order to avoid whatever dangers were coming. The humming grew ever louder.  
The penal truck carrying sixty-seven inmates, eleven females and fifty-six males, barely could make out the truck buck up slightly as the mouse on the road was crushed by one of the large tires that the metal frame rested on. The mouse, not having known what was going to happen never had time to move. The tire ripped across its fragile little body and tore it to pieces from above, spraying scarlet liquid and organs all around. The once happy little rodent with the newly found kernel of corn now was no longer able to be happy; it's found prize crushed beyond recognition along with its tiny body.  
No one on board the light blue penal bus knew what had happened. No mortal man would have been able to notice such a small and insignificant occurrence such as a small mouse losing its life. But at that moment in time, if one of the guards on that tragic bus were to have walked from the front end next to the driver and had walked passed the manacled and orange dressed criminals to the very back of the bus, he would have made it to a small confined space. There was a very small room situated in the very back of this bus, this room was designed to house particularly dangerous criminals. In that very room at the moment of the field mouse's death, a man handcuffed to a steel bench winched slightly. His shoulder length black hair waved a bit as the truck rocked and hit multiple bumps in the paved road. His brown eyes blinked quickly as he tried to reach his well-built left arm to his face to try and calm himself.  
"What just happened now?" the man said to himself. "Could it be that they are following me still? No, it was just a mouse." He slowly looked over at the thick steel door that sealed him into the small room on the bus and saw that a guard was looking at him strangely through the barred grating. "Hey buddy, you got a problem in there?" The guard asked in a low and gruff voice, his small gray beard showing that this maybe wasn't the first time he had driven in a bus like this with criminals. The inmate in the backroom sighed and raised his head to look at the guard more. After staring for a few seconds, the criminal opened his mouth and said in a very quiet and slow voice, "No, it was nothing. I'm alright." The guard nodded in response to the criminal's answer and then smirked at him through the bars. "That's good kid, we wouldn't want you to feel an discomfort before you get executed. No sir, I'm going to make this trip as cozy as I can for you." The old man wearing the police uniform grunted a few laughs as he shook his head and sighed at the criminal before him. "You must have done something pretty shitty for you to end up where you are right now man. What did you do? Armed Robbery? Did you kill someone maybe?" The old guard smiled as he saw the man inside the room narrow his eyes at him as he heard the guard's words. The guard waited a minute, but there was no reply from the criminal. "Humph, fine then hardass, don't tell me anything." The old man turned to walk back to the front of the bus. As he walked a few feet from the metal door, he heard the man inside the room finally answer him. "I'm like this because I killed some things. And now I'm being punished for it."  
  
............................................................................ .............................................. Comments: Ok, not long at all, but it still sets the mood a bit. Anyways, post all your comments for me please; I like to get some feedback. Also, don't worry about how long till take me to update, I'm a writer so Ill update a lot. Thanks for taking the time to read my first try at fan fiction, there's more to come, so stay tuned. 


	2. May 21st, 2004: Kimimoto Residence

Note: As usual, I do not own Berserk, any of its characters, and yadda yadda yadda.  
  
May 21st, 2004: Kimimoto Residence  
  
The sky was a faded hue of blue and maybe even a slight reddish color as the sun began to set from above. There were a lot of trees around as the unknown person looked up into the air and saw this magnificent sight before him. With a deep and exhilarating sigh of relief, the person looked down to his lap and saw a beautiful woman draped over him.  
The woman was not very tall, but was well built and muscular for a female, with toned arm muscles that bulged out slightly from her forearms. She slept soundly and peacefully, her short black hair swaying gently as the summer breeze blew through her strands. The person she was sleeping on was well built as well, very much more then the woman lying in his lap. He reached down slowly with his left hand, his left arm covered in multiple scars from fights long ago, and some that had been received recently.  
As he pressed his left hand gingerly onto the sleeping woman's face and caressed it gently he winced slightly in pain and used his free hand to rub at the spot on the left side of his torso. In a low and quiet voice that was barely audible the man let out a small laugh "Humph, damn spitfire, never knows when to quit." He caressed her more; her smooth skin felt warm and soft under his calloused hand. "I wonder, just what will she do when I tell her that I can't stay, even now." He pondered this for a moment and then sighed again, this time more from anxiety then anything else. "I already left her and the Band of the Hawk once, but how will they ever forgive me if I did it again?"  
The man wasn't a very bright person, he never had attended any sort of educational facility, and he wasn't literate either. He was a brutal killing machine, and had always been that way since he was old enough to pick up a sword. It came as no surprise then, that he was not just thinking to himself his words, but also speaking them clearly, and much to his surprise, loudly as well. This loud self-converse awoke his female companion, who was now staring up at him with her dazzling black eyes.  
The man widened his own eyes upon seeing her, hoping that she hadn't heard him talking to himself just then. She yawned and stretched her arms above her head, looking up at him and smiling, her cheeks rippling slightly under the rise of her lips. She stared into his eyes and then slowly rose to him, embracing him in a gentle hug. "Morning Guts."  
The man smiled and then placed his right arm around the small woman and held her tightly in place. "Morning Caska. How are you feeling?" He smiled at her, not used to doing such things, and in fact, he was a little bit nervous being alone in her presence, although he hid it well. Caska, the dark skinned woman in his arms let go of him and then leaned up against the large oak tree that Guts was already resting upon and she stretched some more. "Well, to tell you the truth, I feel like a new woman." She smiled and winked at her lover, who simply rolled his eyes as his reply. "Why's that?" The large man asked. Caska shrugged and then pulled the white cloth they had wrapped themselves in around her naked body. "You know, you ask way to many questions." She smiled back up at him and then turned her attention to the sky. "Guts...after we rescue Griffith, what will you do?" The question hit Guts like a ton of bricks. This was the question he feared was going to come. In response, Guts merely put his right arm around her shoulder and then grumbled a bit, acting as though he had to sneeze. Caska saw this and tried not to laugh, instead smirking and twitching her small nose in Guts direction. "You can stay here with us you know? It'll be just like old times. Me, you, Judeau, Pippin, we can start all over again just as soon as Griffith is back with us. How's that sound to you?" Before Guts could answer there came an intense pain his head. He screamed out as Caska rose quickly to help him.  
  
It was at this time that a pale Japanese man with shoulder length black hair and brown eyes awoke quickly from his very odd dream. He looked around him in every direction and saw that his digital clock read "3:30 AM". Moaning loudly, he fell back down backwards and stared at the ceiling, his white sheets soaked from his sweat, and his girlfriend next to him barely even noticing his spontaneous movement.  
  
My name is Daimon Kimimoto. I am a 23-year-old Japanese man originally from Tokyo. My astronomical sign in Scorpio, yet my bark is much worse then my sting. I'm just an average minority living in New York City, with an average low paying job as a late night Bartender in a strip bar. I have no children; I am not married, although I do have a girlfriend named Lucy who has been living with me now for several months. In my spare time I enjoy writing short stories and listening to Alternative Rock music.  
  
Daimon Kimimoto rose once more in his queen sized bed and took a quick glance at his girlfriend, her long blonde hair covering her entire pillow like it were a blanket in itself. He quietly rose and slowly got out of bed as to not wake her from her sleep. Having reached the foot of the bed, Daimon reached down and grabbed his jeans from the floor and put them on and then he walked inside of his bathroom that was 20 feet from his bed. Closing the door to the bathroom, he then reached up and flicked the light switch, flooding the small room with glowing light. He sighed and looked at himself in the mirror.  
  
For the past three months now, I've been having strange dreams. The dreams seem to take me back to a time and place where I'm someone else and not myself. It seems I am in medieval Europe during the Hundred Year War. I don't know why I have these dreams, but they seem to have a pattern to them. I literally seem to live this other person's life as though I were truly there. When they are struck, I feel great pain, when they are sad or angry, I too become sad or angry. I do not know what these dreams mean, but I haven't gotten a decent nights rest since they began.  
  
Daimon turned the faucet on and filled his hands like a cup with cold water, splashing himself in the face with it and causing him to shiver slightly. He then noticed that the doorknob turned and Lucy came wandering into the room. "Daimon, are you alright? I heard you get up." She sweetly asked her boyfriend. Daimon just nodded as he stared into the mirror some more. "I'm fine Lucy." She walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Was it another bad dream?" His eyebrows rose as he turned around slowly. "I dunno, it wasn't bad like a nightmare or anything, I just...can't seem to be able to sleep through it. It feels like...I don't know...I'm being drained or something." He looked down at his left hand and opened and closed it slowly. Lucy looked very concerned and got out a small bottle of Nyquil. "Here Daimon, drink some of this, you'll be able to sleep better." Daimon took the bottle into his land and looked down at it, the green liquid swaying back in forth in its plastic container. "You work tomorrow, so I think it would be a good idea to try and get as much sleep as possible. Don't you think so too?" Daimon nodded in agreement with Lucy's comment. He needed sleep, more then anything at this point he needed it. 


	3. May 22nd, Dante's Inferno

Dante's Inferno was a very popular if ill-kept strip bar located in the worst neighborhood in New York. Not only was the threat of being mugged always evident even when taking a minor stroll across a street to a parked car, but numerous gang and mafia groups were known to operate in the area as well. If there was one place in all of bustling New York, this neighborhood was the most violent when compared to others. It is because of this violence and because of this sort of reputation that the people living there know this area of the metropolis simply as "Granite Hell". The above for-mentioned reason why I said that this the bar USED to be popular was that one night in May for no reason at all, the entire building exploded in a large and powerful light. This case was never truly solved, although most authorities point towards links with this case and the "Demon Cult" murders as being one of the same.  
  
May 22nd, Monroe Boulevard, Inside of "Dante's Inferno" Pub  
  
Unlike usual nights, Dante's Inferno was not as bustling as it usually was. Daimon Kimimoto leaned against the bar counter where he worked in this shady building and gave a sigh of boredom and exhaustion. The night before had turned out to be not only terrible, but also was another one that did not include any sleep. Daimon had slept so little in so long that he had begun to form black circles under his eyes that were quite evident from a distance. He leaned farther forward and laid his head on the towel he usually used to clean bar glasses with. "I just want to go home." He said sheepishly, yawning loudly and letting his eyes wane open and closed as he tried to not fall asleep on the job. "What the hell happened last night anyway?" He found himself talking out loud, seeing one of the strippers of the bar dancing away around her pole, her plastic devil horns glinting in the light created from the turning disco ball above. "I had that dream, and it was so real, like I wasn't just seeing a fantasy, I was seeing a reality." He found himself chuckling at the idea of a dream he had being even remotely close to reality in any sense. "What the hell am I saying anyways? That cant be right, there is absolutely no way that a dream could come true."  
Before he could figure out what was happening, Daimon found himself jumping in alarm as a female sat in front of him and stared into his eyes. "Dreams can very well come true bartender." The woman said in a sexy and seductive voice. "Anything is possible when you put your mind on the right track." Daimon smirked and huffed a sigh at the woman's comment. He looked her up and down and found her quite beautiful to behold. She was petite, with fair skin and short pink hair that came to her shoulders. "Obviously dyed." Daimon thought to himself. Her lips were dressed with a thick outline of a sparkling pink lipstick, and it glinted and shined in the light of the bar when she opened and closed her mouth. She wore a t-shirt with a smiley face on the front of it with x'd out eyes. The shirt was black and the smiley face was yellow, the eyes faded almost as if they had been purposely done that way. The one aspect of this girl that caught Daimon's attention most, however, was not her attire or her dyed hair, it was her eyes that entranced him. They were jade green and seemed to call to him, to sing out and seem to ask him the question of his very desires. She smiled at him, as he didn't ever reply to her comment.  
"See anything you like buddy?" She asked Daimon, raising her eyebrows at him seductively. Daimon gulped and then smiled. "I would be lying if I said you weren't attractive. What can I get you tonight?" The woman's smiled, her lips curving upwards showing Daimon that what he had said amused her. "Ill have Everclear, straight in the bottle." She smiled. Daimon nearly dropped his cloth at her order. He found himself hunch over the counter and look at her curiously. "Excuse me miss, but you do realize that drinking Everclear is basically drinking rubbing alcohol? I highly suggest you don't drink the entire bottle." He smiled in concern for the young lady's well being. She simply smirked at him and then smiled. "That's a pretty cute accent you have there. Where are you from?" Completely ignoring Daimon's concerning question, she narrowed her eyes and leaned farther towards him on the counter, allowing him a view of her bountiful cleavage. Daimon gasped in retaliation and then smiled, looking up at her face to address her properly. "I'm from Japan actually. Tokyo to be precise." He ducked under the counter to get her what she ordered and came up with the bottle of Everclear, sliding it to her over the counter. She took the bottle and brought it to her lips, taking a long hard swig of it, the liquid oozing down her throat like an oil pump hard at work on a ranch. She pulled the bottle away for the second and smiled at him, not even winching or twitching in the slightest to the hard liquors devastating effects.  
Daimon narrowed his eyes seeing this strange woman handle her liquor so well and found himself smiling idiotically at her. She looked over at him and winked, her highlighted eyelashes blinking over her enchanting eyes. "I'm Bonnie. What's your name Mr. Bartender?" She cooed to him, making him shutter for reasons he could not fully comprehend. He smiled at her while cleaning a nearby shot glass. "My name is Daimon." He answered her. "I'm pleased to meet you Bonnie."  
  
May 22nd, Monroe Boulevard, Budget Motel  
  
For reasons he could not understand, Daimon Kimimoto had found himself aimlessly wandering towards a small and shady looking Budget Motel after he had gotten off of work. The girl he had met at the bar, Bonnie, had told him that if he wanted to get to know her more, all he had to do was go to the Budget Motel and go to Room 13 on the first floor. She said that they didn't have to do anything sexually, just talk and play cards. He didn't really want to go, as he was sure that his girlfriend, Lucy, would find out that he was late be royally upset with him. So, he was on his way towards his car when he felt a sort of burning sensation rise up in his body. The sensation was not like anything he had felt before, and it burned and hurt so bad that he had to try and find a way to stop it. For some reason, however, he knew that the way to stop the pain he was feeling was to go see Bonnie at the motel.  
Daimon found himself walking passed the check in station of the building and waltzing right up to and in front of a wooden stained door. The big number "13" singing a song to him that he couldn't let go from his head. "Its here. What I'm searching for. Its here." He thought to himself. He then grasped his chest, and began to cower and gasp in pain.  
Before he could knock, the door opened slowly to reveal Bonnie wearing the same clothes she had on at the bar, with a very big smile across her face. "I've been waiting for you to show up Daimon." She said to him slowly. "Come on in, lets see what there is to talk about." Daimon nodded slowly and wandered into the motel room, not at all thinking about what events would soon transpire. 


	4. May 22nd, Budget Motel

Note: The following section of this story may be too gruesome for some as violence will take its toll and begin in this area. Just to warn readers beforehand (Although it should be already figured since this is a fan fiction.)  
  
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May 22nd, Budget Motel  
  
"Don't be so sheepish" Bonnie told Daimon as he seemed to be very nervous when he first stepped into the motel room. The room appeared to be an average one-bedroom room with white walls and a large mirror above the sink to the far left wall. The bed was made nicely, with blue and white covers and white covered pillows at the head. Against the wall closest to Daimon was a nineteen-inch television set that received free HBO. Bonnie smiled at her taller guest and sat down slowly on the foot of the bed, her grin striking across her face almost seemingly diabolical. "How about you sit over here next to me Daimon and tell me some more about yourself." She winked at Daimon, which made the Japanese native shiver a bit.  
  
"Alright, I guess some innocent conversation can't really hurt." Daimon said as he walked slowly over to the bed and sat down next to Bonnie, his brow showing signs of condensation, as he was strangely nervous for unknown reasons. He sat down next to her and sighed, then looked into her face and smiled back uneasily.  
  
"Don't be so nervous," she told him nicely. "I'm not going to bite you if you don't want me to. I just wanted to speak with you a bit." Daimon gulped, letting some saliva go down his throat. "Thanks, that's very reassuring, especially considering my girlfriend has no idea where I'm at right now." At the mention of Daimon having a girlfriend, Bonnie's eyes narrowed and her lips parted into an evil smile. "I didn't know you were taken." Daimon nodded in comply with her and found himself tugging nervously at the pockets of his jeans. "So," he said, still smiling. "What is it you wanted to know about me Bonnie?"  
  
The young woman scooted closer to her male companion, making the covers at the end of the bed shuffle slightly towards her. "I want to know why you are in America, and why you have those scars on your fingers." She pointed to Daimon's tanned hands, and he brought them up to his face to reveal mottled scars on the fingertips, a cruel reminder of the past. "The reason I have these scars is a very personal question Bonnie." He narrowed his eyes at her and thinned his lips. There was a long pause, and then Bonnie brought her left arm around Daimon's waist. "It's alright, I wont tell anyone." As she said these words, Daimon found himself unable to control his thoughts, and he began to talk and spill out his past to this woman he had just met, as if he were under a spell.  
  
"These scars on my fingers," he began. "These are actually deep calluses from pulling a trigger way too often." He made a fake gun with his right hand and placed it against his forehead. He then turned to face her, a small smile formed across his face. "Oh I see, so you were a police officer then?" Bonnie asked, now overly excited and curious about Daimon's story. "Daimon shook his head. "No, I wasn't a cop, I was a cleaner actually." Not knowing how she would handle such a shady thing as confessing to be a hit man, Daimon found himself unable to look at Bonnie and another long pause started between them. Bonnie did not say anything, but instead continued to stare at Daimon with her enchanting eyes. Finding this staring to be creepy, Daimon scooted a bit farther away from her and looked at his feet.  
  
"When I was seventeen years old, my parents were in a deep and unsettling debt with a local loan shark. We didn't have any money to pay the loan shark back, as my father was the poor owner of a karaoke bar that was slowly going nowhere. In order to try and help my family out, I turned to a life of crime and started running errands for Yakuza." He slowly raised his head and looked out the window to see that it had begun to rain. "Before I knew it, I was twenty years old and I was in charge of shutting people up who didn't pay the Yakuza back." He turned his head back to meet Bonnie's eyes, her face looking exactly like it did moments before, as if she never blinked or moved at all. "I had become what I had originally wanted to destroy, I had become just like that loan shark that wanted money from my father. I hated my life." He found a tear fall from his right eye and down his cheek. Boonie scooted closer to him once more and placed a finger to his face. Daimon shivered openly and she felt his body shake under her touch. She wiped the tear away and rubbed it on the bed. "How many people have you killed Daimon?" She asked him in that same, sweet and tantalizing voice that he was now used to. "I, I don't remember. But I do know that I have killed a lot of them." He looked back at the floor and blinked his eyes closed tightly; opening them to release more tears. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be speaking about such things in the presence of a lady, and I should be ashamed of myself."  
  
To Daimon's surprise, Bonnie wrapped her arms around him and smiled evilly at his face. "No need to apologize Daimon, murderous intent and violence only make the blood taste sweeter." She licked her lips, her tongue seeming to be impossibly long for a human being. Daimon's eyes widened in surprise and he began to panic. Her grip tightened on his back. "I, I thought you said we didn't have to do anything." He whined at her as he then thought maybe Bonnie wanted a little sexual playtime even after it was agreed to not happen like that.  
  
"I said you didn't have to Daimon." She licked her lips once more, thick gelatin-like saliva spreading across her face. "But I can't let a tasty sacrifice such as you get away from me. Now hold still, this may hurt a little at first, but then it will all be over." She began to laugh maniacally at her own words. Daimon didn't know what to do. He was scared now, panicking, and above all else, he was being held by a very strong woman whom he knew nothing about. Knowing that he was probably going to fall victim to a freak of some sort, Daimon attempted to reach into his inner coat pocket where he always held a 38 caliber revolver just in case someone tried to mug him. Bonnie tightened her hold even more around him, and Daimon let out a small cry as he felt his bones in his upper torso begin to falter from constriction. He desperately moved his hand into his coat and felt the handle of the pistol inside. He yanked the firearm free, just as he looked up to see Bonnie's lower jaw disconnect and her teeth elongate menacingly.  
  
"What the hell!?" Diamon yelled as he shoved the short barrel of the revolver hard into Bonnie's stomach and pulled the trigger, the hammer slamming down at the rear and causing the first bullet to leave the chamber. A loud yet muffled sound enveloped the room as the first bullet left the barrel of the gun and impacted instantly into the slowly mutating thing that had once seemed to be a kind young woman. At first, Bonnie did not move at all, her lower jaw dropping far lower then any human being could accomplish. She let out a low guttural hiss, and then smoke began to escape from her throat. The smell of burning flesh and gunpowder could be smelt from her face as Daimon freed his right arm and forcefully punched the strange creature in the face, right in it's left eye.  
  
The Bonnie monster fell backwards as she lost her grip on Daimon and fell to the floor flat on her back. The hole from the gunshot was pulsating and was excreting a thick red fluid that slowly formed a pool on the floor under her. Daimon jumped to his feet and pointed the revolver at the strange thing at his feet, standing on top of the bed mattress and breathing heavily in shock.  
  
Bonnie's eyes rolled impossibly in random directions in her sockets and then fell to rest locked on Daimon pointing the firearm at her. Her lower jaw raised back and fitted into place once more, with a loud cracking sound. She smiled and then moved her left hand to the bullet wound on her ruptured stomach. "Well Daimon, your not that bad. I must commend you." She shoved her entire left hand into her stomach, more blood and gore squirting from the wound as she then dug out the used bullet and showed it to Daimon, who backed up a bit and fell against the wall as he saw her do it. Her hand was covered in her own blood, and she held the small metallic object between her index finger and middle finger. "I believe this is yours." She tossed it at him, and the bullet slapped against his chest and fell to the blue and white covers at his feet.  
  
Daimon narrowed his eyes and instead of being frightened any longer, he found himself place a wicked smile across his face, just like he used to when he was still a hit man. "I see, so you can take a single bullet quite well then. How about five more?' He smiled, shrugged, and then began to quickly pull the trigger to the revolver repeatedly, the shots ringing in the room and shaking his arm from recoil.  
  
Bonnie sat up at was climbing onto the bed when Daimon began to fire at her. The first round smacked Bonnie in her left shoulder, the metal bullet ripping her flesh clean off and shattering her collar bone from the impact. She jerked backwards a bit as her blood spattered behind her and went all over the television screen. The second round from the revolver struck Bonnie in her left breast, the impact creating a blossom of scarlet on her shirt, and her breast seemed to cave in from the force of it. This shot forced her to rock backwards and lose her footing on her right foot, almost knocking her over into the wooden door. The last few rounds that were fired struck Bonnie in her lower abdomen and her legs. Her left kneecap was torn off from the blast, the bullet traveling passed her body and into the wall where it caused the plaster to explode into white powder and dust. Her right leg was struck in the thigh, making Bonnie turn 360 degrees around and as she fell the last round struck her in her lower back and blood sprayed on Daimon's coat and pants. She fell over then as the last round was fired and fell flat on her face in a heap of blood and smoking meat.  
  
Daimon raised an eyebrow as he stared at the corpse on the floor, the large amounts of blood seeping deep into the once-clean off white carpet, turning it a crimson red as the blood continued to flow. "Well bitch, I hope you have a nice trip to hell." Daimon said as he flicked the release on the revolver and emptied the casings on the bed mattress. He shook his head as he began to reload the pistol; taking some extra shells he had in his extra coat pocket on the side parallel to his gun strap inset. "I don't know who sent you after me, but you must be an assassin or something. Shit, and I was starting to like in New York too." He slapped the weapon together again and pulled the hammer back. He jumped down from the bed and then kicked the corpse with his right foot. It shuddered a bit, but remained still and lifeless. "I have no idea how you began to change your shape." He started. "But then again, maybe you simply drugged me at the bar with something. I knew I felt funny for some reason." He shook his head, the pain in his body still evident.  
  
As Daimon began to clean up the mess as fast as he could with towels and whatever else he could find, he failed to notice Bonnie's eyes fluctuate and move around in her head. The bloodshot eyes then narrowed and changed into what appeared to be cat-like eyes. 


	5. May 22nd, Budget Motel: Flying Demoness

Note: The violence continues in this section, but be further warned, it gets even more brutal and harsh then the last.  
  
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May 22nd, Budget Motel  
  
"Wow, she took six shells and was still coming." Daimon said to himself as he gathered all pieces of evidence from the murder he had just committed and wrapped it all inside a sheet he had removed from the bed. The entire cleaning process had only really taken a short ten minutes of time to accomplish, and it seems that whoever the Innkeeper that night was, Daimon was lucky the operator of the motel was a slacker.  
  
Daimon picked the large heap of bloody rags and other items over his back and then turned to stare at the dead woman on the floor. He had done a good job when it came to blotching the bullet wounds and stopping her from bleeding so terribly. He had stuffed the bullet holes with as many towels and crumbled toilet paper as he could muster, and the barricade of fibers seemed to be holding out just fine. "Now, what am I supposed to do with you?" He asked the corpse on the floor, never expecting it to answer him at all. "The bad of evidence wont be that hard to get rid of, Ill just toss it in the sewer and no one will be the smarter. But, your body is an entirely different matter altogether."  
  
Daimon dropped the bag of evidence for a short amount of time and let it fall to the ground next to the dead body that had once been someone calling herself Bonnie. Daimon rubbed the back of his head and sighed, "Damnit, I knew I shouldn't have come over here. It was obviously a trap of some sort. I should have seen it coming all along." He stopped down to his knees and began to pat her pants down for any wallet or identification. "Lets see if I can find out who you really are Bonnie, and try and figure out who sent you after me." He put his hands into her pockets and came back with nothing, only the dense feeling of a panty line under her tight pants. He pulled his hands back out and then sighed once more. "Well, it's not in the obvious place." He then trained his concentration on Bonnie's back, and then narrowed his eyes as he thought of something. "She sure the hell looks like a hooker, why wouldn't she hide things on her like one?"  
  
Daimon grabbed Bonnie by her legs and turned her around so that she was on her back. Her hands hung loosely at her sides and her eyes were shut, her mouth open and dripping with blood. Daimon shook his head "I'm really sorry it had to come to this. But anyone who decides to mess with Daimon Kimimoto isn't going to be very happy with the results." He rubbed his hands together and then pulled a butterfly knife from his left jean pocket and let the blade out from its loose holder. He flipped it around and then began to cut away Bonnie's tight fitting t-shirt she had on, the fabric tearing easily under the pressure of the sharp knife. After cutting a long path through her shirt, he stopped at the collar around her neck and quickly jerked the knife upwards, the shirt now completely and utterly cut in a surgical manner.  
  
Daimon smiled and nodded at a job well done, knowing that in order to completely be satisfied with the disposal of the body, he would have to get rid of the clothes and burn then all first. He removed her black t-shirt from her body and threw it on top of the bundle he had made and found a smooth pale body underneath it. Bonnie's body had been almost goddess like, and most men would have loved to be with her. This was evident as Daimon's eyes widened at her body lying in front of him. Her petite body revealed a cleanly smooth and pale skinned stomach that rose to her medium sized breasts. Her bra was red in color and was lacey, giving Daimon a glimpse of what may have been a fun and exciting time if he were to have done the wrong thing from the get-go. "You really were beautiful you know that?" He sighed as he slipped a hand under her left cup in order to search for her ID. "This was such a waste."  
  
As Daimon's hand explored the bra of the dead body, Bonnie's eyes shot wide open and her right hand reached up quickly and grasped Daimon by his coat sleeve. She rose up and smiled at him, licking her own blood from her cheek and revealing that her eyes were more feline now then human. "WHAT THE FUCK!!" Daimon roared in surprise as Bonnie easily lifted him up by his arm and threw him as hard as she could at the wooden door to the motel room.  
  
Daimon rolled around in mid air, doing a half somersault, his face close to the ground his legs high in the air. He then slammed hard against the wooden door and the entranceway bent and snapped under his thrown weight. Daimon fell through the wood and skidded on the wet pavement outside of the room, his face being scraped and torn from the impact.  
  
As he tried to get back up, Daimon could here the terrible giggles of the woman who twelve minutes earlier he had though he shot to death. "Impossible.." Daimon said as he slowly got to his feet and rubbed his now bleeding left cheek. "This is absolutely impossible."  
  
Bonnie stuck her head outside, overlooking the now shattered pieces of wood that scattered the empty parking lot of the motel. She looked over at Daimon and an evil smirk crossed her face. "Surprised to see me lover boy?" She winked at him with her cat-like eye and smiled, revealing rows of razor sharp teeth. Daimon reached down and pulled out his revolver once more and noticed that it was already to go. "Lucky I was prepared in case she had more of her friends around." He thought to himself.  
  
"There is no possible way that a human being can take the damage you just took and still have the ability to throw me through a solid wooden door. That hurt by the way." He smiled as he held the gun and pointed it at Bonnie. Bonnie smiled and walked outside, dragging the leg that no longer had a kneecap. "You are one hundred percent right Daimon. There is no way that a human being can take so much damage and keep on ticking. And guess what, I'm not a human at all." She licked her lips and continued to make her way towards him, her arms slowly turning a murky reddish color as she came closer. Daimon raised the gun farther into the air and aimed at Bonnie's face, just as her head turned red and her once beautiful hair fell out and landed in a large clump on the pavement. "What the hell are you?" He said quietly in disbelief. She was now ten feet away from him, and as he watched he get closer, her back vibrated and two leathery bat-like wings exploded from her, spraying blood all over the parking lot. "I'm your worst nightmare, I'm also your equal." She said. Daimon smiled and then answered her by pulling the trigger of the 38-caliber pistol and emptying a metal round into her right eye.  
  
The bullet pierced Bonnie's right eye and blood exploded from the newly created wound and exited from the back of her head, the blood continuing to spurt outward. She smiled and let the blood trail down her body to the ground. The impact from the point blank shot didn't even make her deter as she became closer, her arms outstretched. Daimon looked down at his smoking firearm and gulped. "I'm going to need something a lot bigger." He was about to make another attack on this creature before him, when Bonnie's arms spurted long scythe-like blades from her forearm. The blade looked to be made from bone, and they glinted in the light of the moon.  
  
Daimon saw these blades elongate from Bonnie and found himself turning and running as fast as he could down the wet street. Raindrops that fell from the sky pattered and stung his face as he ran in a blind sprint towards hopeful freedom and safety. As he turned a corner, he found himself running through an alleyway. The alley was flooded with garbage cans and dumpsters, and trash was lying all over the gravel pavement. Taking a moment to regain his breath, Daimon gasped in horror as Bonnie landed ten feet behind him, her leathery wings flapping and then stopping as she landed on top of a nearby Pontiac Sunbird, the roof crushing like a tin can. She had increased in height, and was roughly ten feet tall, her slender build still evident, but was secondary to her scaly and reddish skin. From her forehead erupted a long single serrated horn that was black in color. She looked down with her slitted eyes and smiled at her prey, a long forked tongue exiting her mouth and licking her eye she had lost earlier from the gunshot.  
  
Daimon looked around him and noticed that the alleyway ended with a brick wall. A dead end was not something that was an option, but if he had to stand and fight against whatever Bonnie really was, then he was not about to just surrender and let her have him. Daimon shrugged and smiled at his adversary, trying to hide his fear behind his smug face. "Alright bitch," he yelled, "This is round two!" He raised the revolver and emptied the remaining shells into the demonic beast looming on top of the crushed vehicle, just like he had done at the motel room earlier. The bullets whipped through the air and found their target. Three of the five remaining bullets bounced harmlessly off of Bonnie's skin, as though her skin were a type of body armor. The other two shells hit into her wings and made small holes in them, then continued to speed down the intercity street. "FUCK!" Daimon yelled as he threw the small pistol to the ground. "You're like a god damn tank!" He yelled some more then found himself arming his right hand with the butterfly knife in his pocket. He flipped it around in his hand with great skill and then grasped it tightly, the blade facing the ground.  
  
Bonnie chuckled to herself and hopped down from the smashed car, and hunched down, her wings encircling her like a bat. "I see so you will oppose me still, eve if it is hopeless?" She licked her face once more disgustingly, and Daimon found himself sweating. "Remember what you've learned in Japan and China Daimon," he told himself as he saw Bonnie coming closer. "Keep focused, and don't let your guard down. Make your old masters proud of you."  
  
As Bonnie loomed closer, Daimon began to sway back and forth, and then raised his hands in a Jeet Kun Do styled combat stance, much like that of Bruce Lee fame. Bonnie smiled more and brought her scythe-armed hands to her sides and prepared to cut the Japanese man in two. "Im not scared of you anymore Bonnie. I was before, but for some reason, I want to kill you." He clutched the knife tighter then before, it cut into the palm of his hand and blood began to drip from it. "I want to kill you Bonnie, and I want it to be in the most gruesome way possible.." he narrowed his eyes in anger and danced around her large form as menacing as he could being dwarfed by her monstrous form. "the funny thing is Bonnie, I don't know why I want to, I just HAVE to kill you brutally."  
  
"It is what I was thinking from the start then," Bonnie began, "You are a reborn sacrifice, as I expected. This is most marvelous. I cant wait to break your skull in." Bonnie began to laugh manically again, but she was cut off when Daimon's right leg connected with her unguarded stomach region. His knee shoved quickly into her stomach, Bonnie felt nearly no pain at all from the attack, due to her demonic form. She was about to lash back in a counter-attack, but before she could do so, Daimon was attacking her with his butterfly knife in very fast motions across her chest. His knee still well-placed in her stomach, Bonnie found that it was difficult to catch up with Daimon's quick reflexes and speed, and before she knew it, the butterfly knife had cut several large slashes across her breasts and chest. Blood seeped from these wounds and poured down her body. She shrieked in agony and in anger and then backhanded the Japanese man into a nearby trash can.  
  
Daimon flew into the trashcan and he could hear one of his ribs dislocating. It felt like he was hit by a speeding car. The trash can fell over and dumped garbage bags and pieces of metal and fluorescent light bulbs all over the alleyway. He stumbled to his feet and saw Bonnie was already upon him, she swung one of her scythe-blades at Daimons head. Daimon ducked out of the way of the attack and rolled on the wet ground across the strewn garbage. The scythe flew through the air and cut a long swath of destruction in its wake. Several trash bins and a dumpster were cut in half as if they were made of paper and Bonnie's weapons were a school room cutter. The severed metallic parts slid from the whole mass and fell besides the left overs of the containers they once belonged too. Daimon stopped his roll and jumped to his feet with a hand spring, grabbing a flourescnet bulb on his way up and slamming the easily broken light bulb over Bonnie's scaly head. The bulb exploded and showered the demon's face with tiny pieces of glass. Being forced to bat the glass particles away from her face, Bonnie was no open to an attack. Daimon used this temporary blindness to his advantage by kicking a rusty pipe the size of a staff into his hands, and slamming the end of it into Bonnie's left wing. The wing snapped where it was held in place by a thin boney protrusion, and fell messily to the ground, blood and gore splattering all over the alleyway.  
  
Bonnie howled in pain and then turned to Daimon, the metal rod behind his back, his legs spread apart still in a combat stance. His body was half covered in the sprayinh blood that had erupted from Bonnie's severed wing, and he lowered his head and stared at her with fierce eyes he did not seem to have before. The demoness bellowed in anger and then charged towards him, Daimon simply raisning his free hand and beckoning her to come to him with as much force as she could.  
  
As the demonic creature charged at him, Daimon swung the metal shaft around his head and the end of it slammed into Bonnie's left jaw. Her head swayed to the left, and Daimon spun the shaft around his side and shoved one end into the ground and forced the other end into the Demon's left underarm. The force of the attack and the leverage from the concrete forced the Demon to fall over and land inside of a dumpster, the container crushing under her weight and sending trash into the air.  
  
Daimon breathed heavily and found this fight to be getting to him. Although he was delivering blow after blow to his adversary, the enemy was simply too large and heavy to cause any major damage at all. Daimon was finding that every time he struck this demon with anything he had, it felt like he was attacking a brick wall. Daimon swung the rusty steel shaft in front of his face like a true martial artist, and stared down at his opponent. As Bonnie returned to her feet and shook her head in confusion, Daimon slowly removed his long grey overcoat and threw it on the ground. The coat was blown away by the wind that was moving around the area from the storm above, and rain fell down and pattered all over his pale skinned body. "You know Bonnie, you used to be a hell of a lot hotter when you were a girl." The creature rose and snarled at Daimon, her scythe-arms retracting as she found out earlier that she would hit the walls more then her target. Daimon smiled and rubbed his dripping nose, "You know what nevermind," Daimon said as he lowered the shaft at Bonnie and rasied his left leg into the air into another combat stance. "Even though you were hotter then, you're a lot more fun now."  
  
The monster charged at him again, and Daimon shoved the shaft forward, the rusty end spearing through the demon as it ran at him with amazing speed and strength. The steel rod plunged deep into Bonnie's left breast and exited through her back. Blood an a section of her ribs popped out of her back, the blood spraying some garbage bags and mixing with the rain water to make a transient red puddle nearby. Bonnie, although injured once more, continued to charge onward, as if the steel rod on her body was nothing at all.  
  
Daimon gasped in surprise and ran backwards, doing a backflip on top of a nearby dumpster. As Bonnie came rushing towards him, Daimon raised the butterfly knife he still carried on him and threw it as hard as he could at the charging monster. The knife flew through the air and found its mark in Bonnie's forehead, the short steel blade barely missing the black horn that protruded from her head. Bonnie stopped her charge slightly and shook her head, the knife flying out from it and bouncing down the alleyway into the unknown.  
  
Seeing his opportunity, Daimon dived from the dumpster and grabbed ahold of the massive horn with both of his hands. He swung as hard as he could and brought all of his weight down on the boney object. The horn snapped nastily with a popping sound, and cartilage and skin tore. Blood sprayed from the wound and gushed all over the surprised demon's face as Daimon landed near her, with his new weapon in hand.  
  
Daimon laughed and then looked down at his arms to realize that he had been injured in that attack. As he was swaying back and forth to tear the horn off, Bonnie had swatted him with her clawed hand and had cut a very keep lasceration in Daimon's left arm. He grimaced in pain and held the horn tightly. "This all, this all seems to familiar." He thought to himself as he readied for his next attack. 


	6. May 22nd, Main and 7th

Its been a long time readers since I last updated any of my fanfiction. Looking back through the records now, it seems that its actually been close to two years on some of these stories. Ive been super busy lately, and such activities as moving into my own house, getting engaged to the woman I love and writing a listing of game manuals for a pen and paper RPG can make things hard when it comes to writing short stories.

Ive decided that nows as good a time as any to continue my works on and what better way to start my comeback then by beginning where I left off in a case of mortal combat between man and demon. Read on, and hopefully I will be able to update a lot more often now.

-Blade3000xl

………………………………………

The hiss of pain echoed from within Bonnie's disfigured head as Daimon tore at the horn embedded in her cranium and prepared to beat her as much as he could. The rain drops fell like small missiles from heaven, exploding on and around the two combatants inside of that filthy alleyway. As could be expected from New York, there wasn't a policeman in sight, no one was going to come to jump in and help Daimon, not even when he truly needed it such as now. He knew that he couldn't hope to defeat this strange creature with what he currently had at his disposal, and whatever Bonnie was one thing was for certain, she could certainly take a beating.

The guttural in-human moans and gurgling continued to leave through the monster's gaping maw, and as Daimon began to slam his left fist down as hard as he could around the monster's eyes, he found that he was laughing, and not only laughing, but chuckling extremely loud as though he were a madman. One of Bonnie's claws managed to reach up and cath him, wrapping spindly fingers that smelt terribly of rotting flesh around his chest and stomach. With a powerful yank, Bonnie had removed Daimon from her damaged horn, raising him high above her head. Daimon screamed as her hold on him increased, crushing his ribs and forcing him to frantically fight the claw, biting and pulling at it with his hands. Bonnie sneered, half skiling with her loathsome mouth full of razor sharp teeth, and tossed Daimon at the closest thing to them; a parked taxi-cab.

The throw was very strong, Daimon had realized what Bonnie was planning on doing before she had let him go. He saw the taxi on the side of the street, closed his eyes, and prepared for impact. He felt her mangled demonic flesh leave his body, felt the ripple of air and water explode all around him, and then he felt as his head and then his shoulders went through one of the taxi's windows.

Opening his eyes and spitting up blood all over the dashboard, Daimon realized that he had gone head first through the drivers side window of the taxi. His shoulders all torn to bits, pieces of glass stuck into his flesh causing his entire body to contort in pain, Daimon did the only thing he could do, he pulled the rest of his body into the cab and hit at the ignition. Looking around, dazed and confused, Daimon knew that his only chance for survival at this time was to hotwire the taxi and get the hell out of there. He quickly shot a glance to the alley, and watched in horror as Bonnie stood watching him. Her horn slowly snapped back into place and re-embedded itself where it had originally been before he had ripped into it. She grabbed what was left of the metal pole that was stuck inside of her and broke it off, her wound slowly closing as the metal piping hit the wet alley concrete. "Fuck this." Daimon said to himself slowly and then began to double his efforts at bashing the ignition open. Three strikes had already made his hand bleed, cutting him open in several places, but he didn't care anymore what was bleeding or not. He gave it one more knock and the metal piece around the wires broke off from the main unit and Daimon began to quickly try and put the wires together to start the car.

Bonnie had never fought someone as powerful as Daimon before. He had managed to give her quite a show so far, with only his bare hands and his simple human weapons. She knew that something strong and dormant lay inside of his soul, it was generating such delicious energy that she couldn't help herself and had to try and devour it earlier. At this moment she needed to sit and regenerate her wounds. Daimon hadn't caused any serious damage to her, although him ripping at her horn caused some cranial damage and lower demons such as herself were very vulnerable around that region. She hissed in amusement as she heard the taxi shake and the engine buzz into life. She began to lumber forward again to get to him, wanting to know more then ever how someone like him was still alive.

Daimon started the taxi and looked over to see Bonnie coming closer to him. She had healed most of her wounds it seemed save for her damaged wing he had broken earlier. Smiling slightly at his luck, Daimon turned to face his evil adversary and with a smug look on his badly beaten face, slowly raised his right hand and extended his middle finger at her. As she drew closer, he hit the gas and sped off down the slippery wet road.

As he drove down one block and went past the next, Daimon thought for sure he had lost her. He began to look in the rear-view mirror to assess the damage he had received. His shoulder were badly injured, the flesh rising up in places, blood flowing like small rivers down his chest and into his lap. His face didn't look much better. The impact to the window had caused his forehead and left cheek to swell up. His right eye was black and a small piece of glass had lodged itself just under his eyelid causing him to go bloodshot. He closed his left eye to check how well he could see with the damaged one and found that it still worked, although everything looked a bit fuzzy. Shaking his head, he quickly opened the glove compartment for anything useful, finding only papers and car registration information, which he ended up scattering all over the floor. Cursing under his breath, Daimon began to consider going to hospital when it happened. Apparently he hadn't lost Bonnie for good. As Daimon drove down the street he was on, the evil demoness threw herself off of a building in front of him, landing twenty feet in front of the car. There was nowhere to turn, there was nowhere to go. Daimon hit the breaks, knowing that running Bonnie down was like running into a truck. "Bitch much have jumped buildings…great…just great…" He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, looking around quickly to give him his options. Bonnie began to run towards him, head lowered, claws out, ready to strike and tear the cab to pieces. Daimon smirked slowly and saw what he wanted to see, and bailed from the cab, rolling across the street as the demoness charged head-long into the cab. Not realizing Daimon had left yet, Bonnie clawed at the vehicle, tearing off the roof with one swipe and caving in the hood with her face. The car smoked and steamed as gases left their compartments. Daimon rushed over to the nearest window and elbowed through the glass, throwing him self inside. Rolling across the floor, he looked around desperately for anything.

The room was filled with all sorts of knick-knacks and doo-dads. Whatever the poor man could sell to earn himself enough money to buy some more booze, that was what was available at a pawn shop. Daimon rushed behind the main desk and found what he was looking for, a glass case full of handguns, rifles and knives. "Now all I need is a way to use them."


End file.
